The Mourning Girl
by Mimi011
Summary: Could I be a ghost? A ghost with no past? And who is the girl that always cries when she's here? I must be dead. I must.
1. Chapter 1

Okay, so I went to see the movie Rise of The Guardians, and I felt it needed a fanfiction. So here we go!

ANFJHJSDFFJBSJNFKNVSBDFNVSCD HVIURIUHVUVHVRUVBD8SY734YTIE WRNCNERY34C8T9Y(aka a line)

I was just walking around in the forest one night, not feeling like flying, and came into a group of adolescents sitting around a campfire.

"One night, only two years ago, in this same exact spot, a young girl set up a camp. She was a wonderer, and never stayed in one place to long. She would have packed up her items in the morn', but she never did."

I began to feel interested in this boy's story, wondering why the wonderer wouldn't wonder.

"She was cooking a squirrel she had managed to catch when a terrible moaning came from the woods. She passed it as the wind hollowing, but then she heard it again. And again. She stood up but was pushed down by some invisible force!" The boy yelled, and his friends gasped.

"She struggled, but found there was no leaving. She had to stay put, or the _ghost_ would push her again! She sat still, shivering with fear, and then the knife she had always kept in her pocket, stabbed her stomach!"

All the boys stared wide eyed for their friend to continue, and so was I.

"She died that very night, this same night, two years ago, and they say her spirit still wonders, but can't wonder very far from where she died. She could be standing right next to you, and you wouldn't know it!" He finished, his friends looking to the woods nervously.

I thought for a second that the boy I sat next to looked at me, into my eyes, but he didn't show any reaction.

Sighing, I considered that I might be a ghost, but weren't ghosts supposed to have a life before they died? I'm pretty sure I am some sort of spirit, but if what these boys say is true, then did I have a life?

Did I? All I remember is cold, fear, and then I didn't feel scared. And I saw the moon. He said I had a name, Jack Frost, but nothing more. Is this how all ghosts start? Am I a ghost? Was I murdered like these boys described the wonderer girl, or did I die naturally?

More and more questions filled my mind, and the more curious I got the more the wind picked up.

I didn't bother to notice the boys looking around suspiciously; I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts for that. But I got angrier.

I looked up to the moon. "Did I have a past? Did I actually have a family that loved me? Why am I here?"

Nothing.

"Answer me!"

Nothing.

Except a huge gust of wind I released that knocked a brown haired boy out of his seat on a log.

"The ghost! It's after me!" He screamed, followed by a chorus of even more terrified screams afterwards, and all the boys ran back the way they came on an old pathway.

"Sorry! Come back!" I yelled to them, but they were too far gone, and even if I was their conscience they wouldn't hear me.

Grunting, I shot up in the air to get back to the lake. I'm not going to talk to myself. My sanity is almost all I have.

I landed a little less than softly on the frozen surface of the lake I was born in. Why I stayed, I have no idea. I just, felt I had some unfinished business here. Like I was missing something.

But of course, don't all ghosts stuck on Earth feel this way? That something is missing? I guess it's just part of who I am. Or what I am.

But it wasn't always boring around the lake. Sometimes the children would come and play and I would play with them. I must have liked snowball fights when I was alive.

And there was this girl that would come over sometimes, just sit there and look at the lake mournfully.

She looked about my age, not nine, but sixteen. She had long chestnut hair and maple wood eyes. She would sometimes pray, and sometimes cry, and sometimes just talk to herself.

She always looked happy when she talked to herself, like recalling happy memories. But that would lead to sniffling, which lead to sobbing, which lead to crying. I liked seeing her happy and wished I could make her happy, but she was too old to play the childish games I played.

So then that left me with nothing but making her cold. The Mourning Girl, I called her.

Wait.

She's The Mourning Girl, but who does she mourn?

Is it, me? Could she really be mourning me?

I sat down where she would sit, and staff in hand started to draw frost roses on the lake.

It's possible, but what are the odds? She could've been mourning long before I came.

And how would I know for sure? I couldn't just go up there to her and ask, hey do you know who I am?

But just because it's impossible for her to see me, I'll keep trying! There has to be a way. Then a solution crossed my mind.

A smile crept along more lips, and I fell asleep.

Dddddddddddddddddddddddddddd dddddddddddddddddddddddddddd dddddddddddddddddddddd

Pretty good for statrters. R+R!


	2. Chapter 2

Second chapter! And for anyone that hasn't got the memo yet, this is about seven years after Jack was brought back to life by the Man in the Moon.

THELINEOFWHATEVERYOUCALLITKA NGOROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOO

Today is the day.

Definitely.

I am going to walk right up to the Mourning Girl, and she is GOING to see me.

My master plan is all worked out; all I have to do is wait for her to get here. Which for me is easier said than done.

I could hear laughing a little back in the woods, children playing in the snow I made for them to do just so. I planned on playing in it with them, but now I had a mission. One, to meet the Mourning Girl.

Second, resist the temptation to play.

The second rule is what I had to do to meet this girl, so it should have been number one. But the actual meeting is more important.

I looked through the snowy trees I decorated and just imagined the fun they were having. Snow is falling, snowballs flying, joy being heard. Unconsciously, I made a perfect snowball at my feet.

I looked at it, wavered on the decision to through it over the snow bank that the children were at. My final decision, to stay here. The Mourning Girl could come when I was gone.

And ghosts weren't supposed to be able to pick anything up, right? Maybe only the really powerful ones.

It makes me smile, thinking that one day I'll meet a ghost, and we could play together. Unless it is all depressed for being dead. I could see why anyone would be depressed knowing that they died, but I couldn't remember my past. So no loss.

I had no losses, because as far as I know, there is nothing to lose.

Sighing, I looked to where the Mourning Girl would always sit, and frowned.

Where is she?

I mean, I never really cared about when she was here, she just was. But now, I have a reason for wanting her to be here. It was almost high noon.

I looking back to where the children were playing, I heard no more noise. They probably were called into lunch. There for the Mourning Girl would be too.

Grumbling, I stood up. The lake's frozen over, but then again I've never really seen a summer in Burgess. It has always been snow and winter.

I grabbed my staff and gently tapped the surface of the lake. Immediately, little frosty patterns appeared all over the lake, covering it completely. Then two skating shoes frosted over my feet.

Might as well have some fun while I'm waiting, even if I have to do it on my own.

I skated, well, good I guess. I've never seen anyone skating but me. When I walked around the village, I would sometimes sit down inside a tavern or family home and listened to them conversing. I would hear a lot of happy stuff, like how a son was heading to another town to go to university, or a new addition coming to the family soon.

And sometimes it was bad stuff.

Like how a family would be dressing up to go to a funeral, or that a father admits he can't support his family, or how the doctor came over to tell them that their child wasn't going to make it this winter.

Winter, it's my element, and yet it kills a many each year. I try to tell myself that it's not my fault, but I can't help sitting down in the Mourning Girl's seat to cry, and yell at the moon, and rock back and forth from loneliness.

But there were also rumors. I liked to listen to these the most. Once a week, a group of women would come over to one of the member's home to converse the happenings of that week. I started to join them after the first year that I can remember, to watch and listen.

Some of them really got the better of me. Like how they said the village's trusty trader, Maxwell Vexton, has a relationship with the mayor's daughter, and that's the only reason he keeps up trading with Burgess.

Like how Adrian's Market also severing as a home for the homeless behind the storage doors.

And like Jackson's family actually murdered him instead of how they say he died from the cold water of a winter skate.

They all got the better of me, all gasping and weeping and laughing like the rest of the women there.

I also guess skating gets the better of me, because then I heard someone approaching the lake.

I quickly slowed to a halt, removed my skates, and threw them into the woods.

Sure, I wanted her to see me, but not now.

She walked over the snow bank, and I took a moment to admire her at peace.

She had a small smile on her face, but continued looking down as if someone saw her smiling, she would be punished. Her long brown hair flowed behind her, like a goddess, almost. Her face was pale from the sun not being out at all. My apologies.

She sat down and looked up to the cloudy skies, her smile gone.

"Why did it have to be you? If I was braver, you would still be alive. You would still prank me and trick me, and I wouldn't be mad at you. Because then you would be there."

She took a break from her words to wipe the tears from her beautiful brown eyes.

"You would be next to me, telling me not to cry, that everything was alright. And then we would go home and have candy canes, your favorite." She brought out a satchel, and pulled out a few candy canes, which she threw to the middle of the lake.

She would sometimes bring candy to her mourner, and I would let them sit there for a few days, shooing away birds and squirrels from it. But in the end, I would pick it up, and eat it guiltily.

But weren't ghosts not supposed to eat? They didn't need to, they were dead. And basically only air.

"You know, one of these days I'll bring Christian and Abigail down here so you can see them. I've told you already, but they're our younger brother and sister. Twins, it was hard on Mom, but she was strong."

I knew who Christian and Abby are. One time, I followed the Mourning Girl home, to a small cottage on the outskirts of town. When she got there, she sneaked through the window. I followed behind her into the small two room cabin, and she ran right into her dad. He yelled at her for leaving the house, and she yelled back about how she couldn't be cooped up forever, and that they had to forget about Jackson, that he was gone, never coming back.

Her father sent her to her room, which really was everyone's room. It had a huge bed, a huge crib that said Christian and Abigail on it, and a huge chest. She went and cried on the bed, frustrated, and kept screaming about why this Jackson boy had to save her, why she could've been the one who died.

"We are hoping to get a larger cabin, closer to town, with all the valuables we've saved. I'll miss our home, but, if you are there, I give you permission to live there. If you want to, of course." She said, holding her arm nervously.

"Mother says I'm old enough to try for a job at the tailor she works at, but, I'm not that good at sewing. Not good enough to be a tailor."

I sat down, interested in what she had to say.

"It's just sad though, because everyone is recovered, but none come to visit you. I think it's just their way of healing, forgetting, that is. It's sad though, I still find Mom crying into Dad's chest sometimes. I know she misses you greatly, and prays for you each night, and sometimes I ask her to come with me here, but she is too scared to come. She just doesn't want to be reminded you're gone."

The Mourning Girl always speaks wise words, but I've never sat down to listen to them until now.

"It saddens me too, brother, that our siblings will never meet you." She finished getting up to walk away.

Now it's my turn to talk.

I got up, and made the wind push her back to her spot. She looked ahead of her, where I forced the wind to push her. She was a smart girl, she would understand soon enough.

I tapped my staff on the frozen lake, and a trail of frost roses came over to her. Turning around she made a curious face at my decoration.

I smirked at how she, for the moment, was completely clueless. In front of her, in frost, I wrote a message.

_Come skate with me Mourning Girl._

She gasped at the message, and gazed up to the sky.

"Jack! I knew you were still there! But I don't have any skates!" She yelled up at the clouds, and my eyes widened at the name. _Jack_.

She had been mourning me.

I quickly wrote me response.

_Step out on the ice, and they'll be there._

She looked out to the ice with a look of fear.

"But, Jack, I." She mumbled, stepping away.

_It's okay I won't let you fall in. I'll catch you, but you can count on me. No way are you falling in._

I wrote, and her fear turned to a small smile. She bravely took a step out on the ice.

I walked over to her, and tapped her shoes gently. A blade formed on each foot, and she wobbled a little before getting her balance back.

"You can do that? How?" She asked, still watching her newly formed ice skates as they wobbled slightly.

_I truly do not know Mourning Girl. _I responded, and her brow crunched up.

"Jack, my name is Amy. You knew that, right?" She said, looking up. She is starring directly at me, but past me, through me.

_I do not remember my past life, Amy. All I know is my name, Jack Frost, because the Moon told me. If I even had a past life _before_ now._

She read my writing, and looked like she was going to cry.

"You can't remember me?"

_No, I'm really sorry Amy. But I know everything you told me. Abigail and Christian. Those candy canes, I didn't know who they were for, but in the end I ate them. About the rumors, too. I'm so sorry. I couldn't even remember that you were my sister, and that I saved you._

"I was only nine years old. You've been dead for seven years, Jack." She said, looking ready to cry.

But then her expression changed.

"How did you eat the candy canes? You are a ghost, right?" she said, looking in awe at my general area.

_I don't know. I know I'm dead, I have to be. But I can eat, and throw things. The thing I do best though, is bring snow and fun._

"That certainly sounds like you. And explains why we haven't seen the sun since your death." She stated, looking up at the clouds.

_The only problem is, I can feel that somebody can see me. Can you?_

She looked around, looking for me.

"No, I'm sorry Jack. I can't." she answered, her eyes filled with sincerity.

_Do you believe in me? Jack Frost, Bringer of Winter?_ I wrote, just feeling that it might have some impact.

She read, "I do believe in you, Jack Frost." She said, closing her eyes and looking up towards the heavens.

She reopened them, and immediately her head shot towards me.

"Jack!" She yelled, and rocketed towards me. But she forgot she was wearing skates, and landed on her rear.

"You okay?" I asked, standing there, unsure if she could hear or see me. I didn't want to reach a hand out in fear that it would go right through her.

She looked up at me. "Yes! I'm okay! But now you're here, and I can see you!" She yelled excitedly, and got up. Then _hugged_ me.

I stood there, amazed and relieved that I could be an actual person.

I hugged her back, squeezing happily at my first human contact.

"J-Jack, y-you're s-s-o cold." She chattered, and I quickly let her go. She had frost on her clothes, in the same spots as mine.

"I guess I can only make you cold." I said, smiling that I could now do the undoable.

"I guess so. But, you had." She said, a look of awe growing on her face.

"A what?"

"A pulse." She said, and started grazing my neck with her fingers.

I had no idea what a pulse was, but when she reached a certain spot, I could feel a thumping in my neck.

"What is that?" I said, backing away, a little freaked.

"A pulse silly. It means you're still alive, somehow." She said, smiling.

"I'm alive?" I asked in awe, her expression happier than ever.

"Yes! Now you can come home! We can go back to normal dinners, and have snowball fights, and you'll get to catch up with Mom and Dad!" she yelled, grabbing my hand and dragging me away.

I let the frosted ice skates fade away, and we started running in the woods.

"Really?" I asked with glee. I was going to have a family again!

"Of course! But you do look a little different." She said, our run slowing to a walk.

"How?"

"Well, for starters, your hair is white, you have blue eyes, and you have frost all over your coat and pants." She said, as if it was the most obvious thing about me.

"I know, but I've always had those. See?" I said, and started shaking my hair.

She watched in awe as frost and snowflakes departed from my hair and onto my coat.

"Cool, that's really cool." She said, continuing us back into a run.

She ran ahead of me, and I flew above the pathway to get to our destination faster.

She was just standing at the door of our cottage.

"Come on!" she yelled, and I raced inside. She came in behind me, and I found myself in a small kitchen and dining room. Our family was waiting in there for us.

"Amy, what are you doing!" Our mother yelled, running up to give her a hug.

"You should not be outside! It's dangerous!" She said, loud but still calm.

"I found Jack!" Amy said, and our Mother's eyes widened.

"How dare you say that name!" She yelled, her smooth tone gone as she _smacked_ Amy across the face.

"Hey! Why did you do that?" I yelled at her, but she didn't even look at me.

_No._

"But he's right next to me! Why can't you see him?" She yelled back, tears falling.

"Amy," I tried to tell her, but she cut me off.

"He's standing right next to me! I even checked his pulse, and it was there!" She screamed at our Mother, angry at her for what she couldn't help.

"Amy, she" She cut me off again.

"What?!" She screamed at me, tears in her eyes.

I was silent for a moment, having no clue what so ever of how to calm a girl down.

"She can't see me." I said, almost a whisper, and her face slacked. She looked at the ground, so I couldn't see her face.

"Oh." Was all she said, before coming up with a plan.

She looked back up at me, hope in her eyes.

"Jack, pick me up!" She commanded, and my face lit up.

I happily did as told, grabbed hold of her and flew.

The look on our Mother's face was hysterical. For those who knew what was actually happening, it was.

Then all heck broke loose.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 

Okay, that chapter could have been broken into two, but I was too into it to let it go. So hoped you liked it! I might make more chapters, but I've got another ROTG idea in mind.


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